


daddy, daddy.

by ribbonelle



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Daddy Kink, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Spanking, Xeno, i dk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:26:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/pseuds/ribbonelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which two particular boyfriends engage in each other's kinks because really, they've only got each other.<br/>(There's no complaints.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	daddy, daddy.

**Author's Note:**

> 'One day I’m going to write a beautiful fic concerning daddy kinks and Eridan, but till then. Let’s make this EriDave.'
> 
> I wrote this on top of a document and this fic is a result of stress relief, really. It's my first porn thing ever posted, so please be gentle. It's really self-indulgent, since possessiveness and daddy kinks and Eridan being loved. Also submissive Dave. I'm also bad at titles hahahaa, sorry. And endings. 
> 
> Enjoy my shame, though.

You love it when he gets like this. There are some moments in your sex life with Eridan where the both of you would indulge in each other’s kinks, and apparently you two share a mutual love for a particular one. Well, this, and also cross dressing, but if you had to pick a favourite, it wouldn’t even be a  competition.

He got off from work about an hour ago, and from the way he wouldn’t look at you much when he got in the door alerted you that yes, it’s going to be _that_ sort of fucking today. You’re glad you’re in an oversized shirt and boxers from the beginning. So as he got inside the bathroom to get ready for bedtime, you quickly position yourself on the bed, mussing your own hair a little. You tug at your shirt, exposing your left shoulder and you wait patiently for Eridan to get back in the bedroom.

You’re almost salivating at the thought of doing what you’ll be doing soon. Hopefully.

Your troll boyfriend walks out of the bathroom, undoing the buttons to his work shirt; he still haven’t took that off, yum; but he stops short upon seeing you on the bed. You’re sitting on your knees, your shades off and you lift your head up perkily at his presence. “Daddy,” you utter almost breathlessly, patting the bed with your hand, “Come sit with me.”

It seems like a fucking eternity before he responds, and your stomach lurches in relief. “Patience, Dave.” He makes his way to the wardrobe, unbuttoning his shirt, “Let Daddy change.” You almost whoop in joy; fuck yes, he is on with the program, give some applause, Dave Strider is going to get so deliciously laid tonight.

Putting aside your elation, you whine audibly; pouting in that way you would never, ever do with anyone who wasn’t Eridan. “But _Daddy,_ I want you here now.” Eridan shoots you an irritated glance, before he shrugs his clothing off, clad only in workpants, “I told you to wait, Dave.”

“I don’t wanna wait,” you whine even louder, the epitome of being an annoying little brat. You’re being naughty. You shouldn’t be, because that leads to punishment, but some days you just can’t help being a naughty boy. Your Daddy drives you wild. “Daddy, come here and play with me. I’ve been lonely the whole day.”

Eridan eventually turns around, his face a mask of stoic disapproval. You fucking love how he could turn stern in moments like this, and yet be the sweet, lovable boyfriend you know in others. That’s the advantage of dating an avid FLARPer, you suppose. “You’re being quite the little shit today, aren’t you? Don’t you know what happens to bad boys?”

“They get punished, Daddy,” you answer in a solemn tone, before looking up at him pleadingly. Your poker face could go to hell in times like these, “But Daddy I just wanted to--.”

“Are you being a bad boy or are you not, Dave?” he raises his voice, above yours. You make a point to look afraid, partly because it’s called for, and because Eridan really does get intimidating when he’s stern and serious. It does fucking wonders to your cock. “Yes, Daddy,” you answer quietly, opening your mouth to add something else before deciding not to. He could just punish you without the sex, and you definitely did not want that tonight.

“Turn around,” he orders, “And pull your boxers down.”

Oh.

_Oh._

_Spanking._ Your cock gives an excited twitch at the implication; you’ve been half hard ever since Eridan got home anyway; but you couldn’t help a small frown too. Spanking always makes you so sore you couldn’t sit down anywhere without feeling like your ass is on fire. Sometimes he punishes you with other methods, all equally satisfying, but you have a feeling he’s going to pay a lot of attention to your ass today.

One time, he did all sorts of things with your mouth and only your mouth, and you could still remember the pressure of his fingers on your tongue and how his bulge—Okay. Right. Punishment time.

You turn on the bed, lowering yourself down and you push your ass up; deliberately moving in a way you know is really fucking sexual. You reach back and slide your boxers down, your cock jutting out a little in between your legs and you blush knowing he could clearly see that. Eridan makes a small noise, like a scoff, and you burn in shame. He’s going to tease you even more about it tomorrow morning, but at least you could punch him in the shoulder or something.

Your hands are in front of your hunched over frame, and you press the side of your face against the bed, voice a little shaky from anticipation. “Please, Daddy. Not too many.”

“Should’ve thought about that before you acted like a rotten thing, huh, Dave?” The bed shifts with his weight and you whimper, feeling him climb up and sit beside you. Then there are hands around your waist and you’re pulled over his lap, still hunched over. It’s times like this when you’re reminded how much strength he actually has. Fucking trolls.

His palm is a cool weight against the curve of your ass and you press your face even more against the mattress, shaking a little. You loved getting spanked, and you loved doing this, but you have to be honest. Being set in a vulnerable position like this with the threat of someone hitting you whenever they want really is fucking scary sometimes. Plus the fact you’re aroused as hell.

“You’ve been a really naughty boy lately, Dave. I wonder why that is.” You were right; Eridan’s rubbing your ass lightly, as if getting a feel of it. It’s sort of nice but you know what’s to come. You’re grateful that he’s taken off his rings, nevertheless. “Are you going to tell me why?”

“I wanted you to play, Daddy,” you say quietly, involuntarily pushing your ass against his hand due to all his rubbing, “It’s been so long since you’ve played with me and I missed you touching me.”

He goes ‘Tsk, tsk,’ in that way that he does, and you flinch when he has his palm flat against your ass, and then the hand’s gone and you go rigid. “Pity. If you asked nicely, I would’ve considered it darling, you know I would. But you just had to be disobedient. You just like getting punished now, don’t you?” There’s a hint of Eridan-esque amusement in his tone at the last one but the absence of his hand is freaking you out, and you’re steeling yourself. “Daddy, _please._ ”

“Count them,” He murmurs and he brings his hand down with a hard smack and you flinch, the impact stinging your bare skin. It doesn’t hurt too much because he wasn’t too hard, and it was so sudden, but you know by experience that this is going to change.

“One. Thank you, Daddy.”

The second smack comes without warning, hard and fast and it almost makes you cry out. You could feel your ass heat up, as if burning, and you tremble in Eridan’s lap. Once he got up to thirty fucking hits and your knees gave out, and you were almost reduced to tears. Almost. “Two. Thank you, Daddy.”

The next two smarts, and there’s that lingering ache on your ass and you just had to bury your face into the bed. It’s your punishment so you’re taking it, and usually unnecessary pain would be something you don’t tolerate much but this is Eridan. He’s your boyfriend and you’re mad for him, the kinky sex you have is mostly a bonus.

He hits you really fucking hard on the fifth; you actually jerk back from the impact and gasp. That _hurts._ You’re fighting your instincts to swerve and stop him, but you shake instead, both from self-restraint and that intense sting. “F-five, thank you Daddy. Daddy, it hurts.” You add quietly at the end in a pleading tone.

“It should,” he casually replies and spanks you again. You’re a little bit undone from the previous one, so again you make noise, his back arching in some futile attempt to get away from that hand. But you always return to your original position, no matter how much it pains you. “Six. Thank you Daddy. “

The seventh comes fast and a little badly delivered, it almost didn’t add to the pain on your ass and Eridan’s hand stays there, rubbing at your reddened flesh. You didn’t want to be disappointed but you can’t help yourself from hoping that he’s done. The moment both he pushes you off his lap gently and both his hands rise to cup your ass cheeks, you just know. And talk about feeling fucking excited, you just wanted him to fuck you so bad already.

You voice that out in a whimper, revelling in the dull ache in your flesh as he just manhandles you, kneading and spreading you apart, his thumb a solid weight against your hole. Something cold pokes your calf though, and you couldn’t help reaching back to feel what it is; it’s a ring. Eridan’s busy massaging your butt, so you pick the ring up and look at it, twisting it around with your fingers.

“Daddy, can I wear this, please?” you’re genuinely surprised how shaky your voice is. The spanking must have gotten to you harder that you’d like to admit. “Of course, pet,” he murmurs, pressing his thumb against you harder and your breath hitches. Your erection had wilted from the pain earlier, but you’re steadily getting hard again at his ministrations. The pain’s amazing in some ways, it being from your usually clingy boyfriend making it better.

Eventually he moves up your back, clothed chest pressing against you. His fist comes into your vision and he opens it, his rings dropping onto the bed. “Wear them.” He says, and you didn’t need to make him tell you twice. With shaky hands, you slide the jewellery onto your fingers of all your fingers. You spread them in front of your face when you’re done, tilting your head back, “Do they look pretty on me, Daddy? I’ve always liked your rings.”

“Everything looks good on you, baby. You always look fuckin’ perfect,” he praises and you make a content noise, suddenly aware that he’s taken his pants off somewhere in the process. You push you sore ass back up against him, getting whiny again, “Daddy…”

“You want something, Dave? Out with it.” You rock your hips a few times, and you positively shudder at the feel of that fucking amazing bulge curling against your left thigh. “Fuck me, Daddy please. “

“Now now, pet, you know you’ll be sore in the morning.” You almost growl at that; fucking hell; you _wanted_ to be sore. You want him to fuck you raw but there’s that gig you have tomorrow, and as appealing as it is right now, you sort of need to walk in the near future. How fucking frustrating.

But you improvise, pressing your head on the bed and you slide your hands under yourself, fingers gripping at the flesh of your thighs. “My thighs, Daddy. Fuck my thighs, please, I want you there.”

There’s a split second of pause before he’s leaning to graze those wonderfully sharp razors along your neck, and his hips are flush against your ass. He’s growling, wet bulge sliding up in between your legs and you’re so sure you’re slick with purple there. You close your legs, trapping his bulge and you let out a long moan. It doesn’t matter. You’re still getting deliciously fucked tonight.

Your hands move back above your head and you grip at the sheets, rings a comforting weight over your fingers. Eridan’s hands are on your hips and he’s keeping you in place. You want to rock back but he’s not letting you and it’s simultaneously hot and annoying as fuck. “Beautiful babe. You’ve been waiting for this a while, haven’t you? Did you want me to fuck your pretty little ass?”

“Oh yes Daddy, I love it when you’re spreading me open inside. I love how you give me kisses when you’re splitting me apart, I lo—ahh Daddy!” his bulge slips further in between your legs and it wraps around your cock, almost uncomfortably cold but it’s pulsing and you almost lose it. Your t-shirt’s hiked up to your chest, and he’s running his claws along your sides, thumbing your ribs like you’re a fucking instrument.

You always wax poetic about sex with Eridan. The troll excites you like no other. He thrusts his hips and his bulge thickens in between your legs, the excess bunching up behind your balls. You’ll never get over the fact that his bulge could engulf your cock and _still_ have more of it left. You praise Jesus for it most of the time. His claws dig in and he’s breathing down your neck, steadily moving his hips now. “Does it feel good, princess? Getting your thighs fucked? You’re tight everywhere, aren’t you?” You love how sultry his voice gets, his accent wavering even more.

“Y-yeah. Yes Daddy, you’re making me so wet there,” you drag the ‘wet’, closing your eyes to revel in the rising pressure of his bulge rhythmically squeezing you. You whine at the kisses he bestows upon your shoulders, and you try to turn your head for a real kiss. Eridan doesn’t kiss you. Just because he likes seeing your face all desperate and pleading like that. He’s a douche, but he’s your douche.

At one point, he just fucking grabs your hips, probably deciding that you’ve had your share of reciprocation enough. His fingers are definitely bruising you, and he slams his hips against you hard. His bulge constricts and you almost scream, spine arching to try and gain some fucking semblance of control because your ass is aching again, and your cock is bouncing at how hard he’s fucking your thighs.

“E-eridan.” You gasp, before gritting your teeth to keep yourself together, “Daddy! Daddy, fuck, you feel so good…” His claws are pricking into your thighs and you fucking love the pain. “You’re such a cute little slut, aren’t you Dave?” There’s the dirty talk and you thought you couldn’t get harder but you do. It’s overwhelming how his voice is clear in your ear and the obscene sound of flesh slapping on flesh stays in the background. “Letting me fuck even your thighs. You just want me to fuck your everything, huh?”

Your head tilts back to press against him again, you fucking love this man and you want to touch him all over. Even when you’re supposed to be a good little boy. “Y-yeah Daddy, I—hhahh. I want you everyw-where on me oh Jesus fuck. W-want you to paint me purp-!” He thrusts particularly hard, grinding against your balls and you keen loud, and you can feel your eyes roll back in your head. You’re so close you can feel yourself teetering over the edge, and you gasp out a please. Eridan bites at your nape, voice a growl, now.

“Who do you belong to, pet?”

Sometimes he gets so possessive you feel you’d suffocate. But instead of pushing it away, you love it. You want to drown in him. “You, Daddy, always you. No one but you. I’m yours forever a—ah’m your property and I _love_ you Daddy, oh fucking Jesus Christ I _love you Eri—“_ you’re cut off with his loud trilling, as gruff as a growl and he told you once it’s a troll mating call.

The both of you are past the ‘I love yous’ but you always go overboard with it during times like these. It’s the only time you can afford baring your emotions.

His bulge pulls at your cock and you’re done for, spine snapping into an arch and you come all over the bed, mouth open in a silent scream. He’s still going over you, milking you for all you’re worth and you drop your head on the bed and you moan his name breathlessly. That always gets him undone. And he does, you feel his material spurt over your stomach and drip on the bed, his own orgasm muffled by his mouth on your skin.

You’ve considered getting purple sheets before. Make it ironic, take it the whole mile. He would have agreed either but then you decided you loved seeing his come on your sheets in the morning before you dump that shit into the washing machine. You do want him all over you, if possible.

You pant into the mattress, holding yourself up as much as you can to wait for his bulge to retract. You don’t want to fucking crush that thing under your weight, of course. It does eventually, and you drop, grunting at the fluids on your skin. It feels nice now, but you seriously wouldn’t like it when they’ve dried. Eridan touches your shoulder though, and you shift to turn around a little for him, and you’re aware of that satisfied smile on your face. You let him see that most of the time. Remind him that yes, he just made Dave Strider a happy man.

He kisses your lips sweet and slow, gills still flaring at how he needs to regain his breathing. You hum, pushing up against him easy and gentle. The game’s over, you think, you can cease calling him Daddy now. “You have work tomorrow, don’t you?” Eridan murmurs, reaching up to press a few fingers to your face.

You lean against them, giving him a little nod. “Yeah. Playing at that new club downtown. Wanna come watch?”

“If you’re still on after work then I might just drop by. Don’t be giving fans too much attention now,” he smirks, speaking in a joking manner but you’ve known your boyfriend for quite some time. He forces himself to be open to the possibility that you might someday leave him, no matter how many times you reassure him. The game has left him with insecurities, and you can’t fix them but you always try to make amends, at least. You grin, chuckling a little, “If this big ass bite mark on my neck won’t give them hints, we should totally make out if you come to the club. Right there on the DJ’s platform. Show everyone how we definitely get intimate on a daily basis.”

He laughs at that, grinning happily down at you. Once he told you that you cater to him too much. You think about his feelings a lot. You quip back that he does the same exact thing, and he shut up. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to tell him how much exactly he means to you. But you think he gets the idea a little. Hopefully.

Eventually he wipes you off with some wet tissues, and the two of you get to sleep with him all curled up against you. He’s tired and you exhausted him even more, but he’s sure going to wake up a happy troll. You drift off with thoughts about fins and wings and Eridan’s lips. At some point you also dream of collars engraved with his name, but till then.


End file.
